


Azure Blue

by fuzzballsheltiepants



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Depression, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, M/M, andrew and neil get a dog, no dogs were harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 14:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzballsheltiepants/pseuds/fuzzballsheltiepants
Summary: When Neil is forced to retire due to an injury, he loses track of who he is now that he can no longer play.  Then Andrew meets a dog who reminds him of Neil and he brings her home for the both of them.





	Azure Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This was from an anonymous prompt on Tumblr, retired Andreil with a puppy. I received this prompt uh, 9 months ago, but it took a long time because I just couldn't imagine Neil sliding gracefully into retirement. So, nonnie, I apologize! I hope you see this and enjoy it!
> 
> Rated mature because of themes, not because of violence or sexy times. Thanks as always to Nicole @tntwme for the beta and to Cory @foxsoulcourt for believing in this story!
> 
> Also, [ here's a nice depressing playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5QcwjqLn4lo54xNiIZQw8H) to go along with it.

Neil was fading.

Andrew could see it, every day a little more. It took him longer than it should have to recognize it. It was not like it was for him, a candle snuffed out, leaving the faint glow of the wick, content to wait for a little oxygen, a little spark. This was more like all of Neil’s edges were turning translucent.

Neil had talked about retirement, had made a whole plan, but even as he entered the downhill half of his thirties it had always been something distant. A destination driven towards that never got any closer. Until he cut too sharply on the court and his achilles tendon had abruptly made the decision for him, depositing him in the place he had never really wanted to go.

At first it was easy to dismiss it. Pain. Boredom. Neil was no stranger to either, but he had never made friends with them the way Andrew had. When the restlessness eased into a quiet calm, it seemed like acceptance.

The letter came, hand-delivered by an unassuming man in a suit. _Your obligation is complete._ That was all it said. Neil stared at it for an endless minute; when he dropped it on the table, there was something vicious behind his smile, something Andrew had not seen for years.

“I guess Ichirou doesn’t want me to do wheelchair ads.”

“You’re not in a fucking wheelchair.”

He expected Neil to push back, to force the joke to the edges of absurdity as he so loved to do. He wasn’t expecting the shrug, the drooping back into the couch cushions, the flipping on of the television that Neil had never cared about before.

Slowly the silences got louder.

Neil ate, because Andrew brought him food. He went to physical therapy, because Andrew drove him there. When Andrew wasn’t there, he seemed to stop existing altogether. He was like a Cheshire Cat, only it was his smile that disappeared first.

The harder Andrew tried to hold on, the faster he slipped away.

* * *

There were eyes on him. Andrew ground his teeth against the feeling of fingers tracing up his back that being stared at always gave him and refocused his attention on the array of cat food cans in the display in front of him. None of them looked familiar. He should have asked Neil where in the store the preferred cans lived but when Andrew had suggested he come along, now that he was off crutches, Neil had simply turned up the volume on the tv.

He rounded the corner of the aisle and breathed a sigh of relief when whoever was watching didn’t follow. Snagging a bag of Lady Whiskerton’s favorite treats, he strolled down, scanning the shelves for the familiar labels. Still nothing. At the end of the row he gave up and pulled out his phone to text Neil, then froze, skin prickling.

The asshole was staring again. Every instinct told him to look, to size up the threat and eliminate it. But he steadfastly shoved the phone back in his pocket and turned into the next aisle.

Finally, the right cans. Neil always bought a variety, a few cans of half a dozen different kinds. Each cat had their preferred type and of course Neil had to cater to them. Andrew cut to the chase and grabbed a case of each. Then he wouldn’t have to come back here for a while, under the scrutiny of whatever asshole fan had decided to stalk him in the pet store.

Bracing himself, he pushed the cart back into the main aisle and froze. Yes, there were eyes on him, eyes as blue as the summer sky. The face that contained them split into a broad grin. He walked towards them, slowly, drawn in as if by magnetic force, by gravity, by the tide.

A waist-high wire fence separated him from the blue-eyed dog. Reaching over it, he hesitated before touching, receiving a gentle nuzzle on his palm in return. The dog wagged its whole rear end, and it almost lost its balance. Andrew realized it was missing its left hind leg, and fury flooded through him.

The dog whined at the change in him, its ears—one pricked, one flopped over at an angle—curling back in apology. He forced the anger down. After all, he didn’t know what had happened; it may have been born that way. He let his fingers comb gently through the fluffy fur around its neck, mottled gray and black and white, and the dog hopped closer until its whole body was pressed against the fence.

“I see you’ve got a thing for Bella,” said a woman from just behind him. “She’s a special girl, that’s for sure.”

Andrew finally tore his attention away from the dog and glanced around, taking in the handful of other pens with their furry occupants. A large banner proclaiming Adopt-A-Thon dangled overhead. He looked back down, at the dog gazing up at him, and told himself he was imagining the hope in those damn eyes.

It was almost painful to withdraw his hand and step away. The tiny whine from the dog was like a knife between the ribs. Neil would have fallen head-over-heels for this dog, were he still...Neil. Back when he’d been making plans, a dog had been high up on his list once they wouldn’t be traveling so much. But now…

“Don’t let the three legs deter you,” the rescue volunteer said. “She’s still an active, healthy girl.”

“How did it happen?”

The woman shrugged. “She was found on the side of the road with that leg mangled. Nobody claimed her, so here she is.”

He tamped down on his anger again; without conscious intention, his hand found his way back into the thick fur. She reared up on her hind legs—leg—and put her front paws on the top of the pen, long bushy tail waving.

“Looks like she’s already in love,” the woman said, laughing. “She’s friendly, but not usually like this.”

Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth, a comical contrast to the intelligence in her eyes. The woman started rattling off the dog’s stats: seven months old, Australian shepherd cross, spayed, vaccinated, housebroken. Good with cats and children. It felt like he was talking to a car salesman, and somehow he found himself standing in front of a folding table, a clipboard with an adoption application in front of him.

“Why is she Bella number thirteen?”

“Oh, we have to pick a name for them, you know? Makes them more adoptable. And for whatever reason, females named Bella get picked more often.” She gave an apologetic laugh. “Blame Twilight, I guess. Most of these dogs go through a few names before they get to their forever home, anyway. I think she was Baby or something like that at the vet clinic.”

Andrew looked back at the dog. She was still watching him, and he knew that expression too well. Hope, with no expectations.

“Now will your wife be on board with a dog?” the volunteer asked, taking his application with a glance at his occupied left ring finger.

His thumb found the smooth metal automatically. “Husband. And getting a dog was his idea.”

Technically it was true, even if he didn’t know if that version of Neil even existed anymore. No. It was there. It was just buried, under fear and grief and pain that had frozen over like snow, and he would find it.

* * *

“I’ll be back late tonight.”

Neil looked over the back of the couch at where Andrew was standing by the door, thumb playing with his wedding ring. It was a tell of his, one of the few. Neil nodded, and Andrew left, for some reason taking Neil’s keys off the hook instead of his own.

Not like Neil was going anywhere. He hadn’t driven in months, even though technically he could since it was his left leg. There just didn’t seem to be a point. Where was he going to go?

The tv was on, colors and sounds, nothing he tried to understand. It was just better than the echoing quiet that was all there was left when the screen went dark. Better than the whispered voice he still heard, softer now, muffled by years. _Run. Hide. Disappear._

His mind strayed back to Andrew. He had been acting different the past few days, ever since he had taken an eternity to pick up some cat food. Neil wondered idly if he was having an affair. He didn’t blame him; they hadn’t had sex in over three months, and Andrew had always had different needs than Neil. Hell, they hadn’t even kissed, not really. Not since Neil had woken up from surgery with a cast on his leg and Andrew standing fierce guard at his head.

The thought hollowed him out even more. He missed it; not so much the sex, though he had always liked it. But the rest of it, the kissing and the closeness, the laughing under the covers, the way Andrew’s hand always found his in the last moments before sleep. He didn’t know how to get it back, if Andrew even wanted to anymore.

He closed his eyes, and the day drifted by. King settled into her spot between his knees; Sir on the arm of the couch; Duke Purrbody made himself into a hat. Something crashed in the other room, but he didn’t bother to get up to check. Another victim of Lady’s incessant activity, no doubt. Even the cats found him boring these days.

Sooner than he expected, he heard the garage door open. Andrew was only half an hour late. A short tryst, then, Neil thought, then dug his nails into his thigh. He should just ask him, but the thought was a monolith; there was no way he could scale it.

Andrew was talking on the stairs, the words indistinct but the soothing tone familiar. Then the door opened onto a whirlwind.

Something burst into the room, a blur of fur and scrabbling nails. All three visible cats levitated at the sound. They were used to dogs; Aaron and Kevin would bring theirs when they visited; but they were clearly not expecting an intruder today. Neither was Neil. He sat up a little straighter and looked at Andrew, who was pink in the face as he tried to get the attention of the fluffy stormcloud-colored dog.

The dog locked eyes with Neil, straining at the leash to get to him. Andrew held it back for a moment before giving up and dropping the leash. The dog raced to the back of the couch and bounced up to bop Neil in the face with its muzzle. He blinked at it, then at Andrew. For a moment he thought it probably would’ve been better if Andrew was actually having an affair.

“What the hell are we going to do with this?” he asked, as the dog gave him up as uninteresting and started sniffing its way around the room.

“What do people do with dogs?” Andrew’s nonchalance was betrayed by the flush now creeping up his neck. “Feed her, walk her, play with her.”

The dog had discovered Sir and was wagging at him, her whole body swaying with the movement. Which was how Neil noticed that something was missing. “Nice,” he said, gesturing between his injured leg and the space where the dog should’ve had one. “Is this some sort of statement?”

Andrew gave him a flat look in lieu of an answer, but he was fiddling with his wedding ring again. Oh. Neil’s eyes started to burn, and he turned back to the TV.

He knew it. He knew he wasn’t working hard enough; he knew he was failing. He knew Andrew had to be disappointed. But for him to do this, to go out and get a fucking dog as some sort of physical therapy aid…

“I’m not doing anything with it,” Neil finally said. “It’s your problem.”

He turned up the TV to block the sound of the dog sniffing. After an eternity, he heard Andrew whistle, and the click of nails on wood as the stupid thing bounded over to him, then the sound of the back door sliding open. It felt like his chest was caving in, and he dug his knuckles into his sternum just to prove to himself it wasn’t.

* * *

The warm weight shifting next to him brought Andrew to the brink of consciousness. There was no light filtering in through his eyelids; it wasn’t time to get up yet, and it felt like an eternity since he’d had Neil in bed with him. He reached out to pull him closer, but the body next to him felt wrong and he startled awake, pulling away until he almost fell off the bed.

A soft whine sounded, and he slumped back into the pillows, heart racing. The dog. Of course it was the fucking dog. She crept closer and licked his nose, and he dropped his arm over his face and let her curl herself into his side. It took a few moments before he realized—how had she gotten in here? He’d left her in her crate in the family room.

When sleep was not forthcoming, he got out of bed, pulling on his sweats as he went. The dog jumped out of bed and trotted after him as he led the way down the stairs to the back door. The house was dark and still; Duke perched on the back of the couch and waved a paw at the dog’s tail as she passed.

The air was cool, the sky graying in the first hint of dawn. He shivered as the dog sniffed around the edges of the grass. Eventually they would have to name her; Bella was out of the question, and she didn’t respond to it anyway. It wasn’t that he’d been hoping Neil would chime in, exactly, just that he kind of thought he would. But it had been three days and he still didn’t acknowledge her existence.

He sighed and pulled his sleeves down so they covered his fingers against the chill. A bird started to chirp in the bushes, and the dog went on high alert, bouncing over to investigate and then watching sadly as the bird flew away. “You’re going to have to tone down that enthusiasm,” he told her, and she bowed and spun off in a big lap of the yard in response.

Back inside, he tossed a biscuit in her crate and made sure the door was properly latched before heading back to bed. Sir had taken over the part he had vacated, and Andrew hesitated before settling into the spot that should be Neil’s. King and Lady were no doubt in the guest room with Neil; at least he wasn’t alone, Andrew thought, and he settled back in for another hour’s sleep.

* * *

Neil lay on his stomach on the PT table while Mark dripped ultrasound goo over his calf and ankle. There was a pause while Mark adjusted the controls on the machine, then the familiar light press of the probe against his leg.

He didn’t know why they insisted on this; it wasn’t like it did anything. None of this was going to get him back to where he was. But Andrew drove him here, every week, and he lay here on this stupid table, every week, and he did the stretching and the exercises because what else was he going to do with his time? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. At least this way they could all delude themselves that they were helping.

“Where’s Andrew?” Mark asked, gliding the probe up and down along Neil’s ankle. “I didn’t see his sunny face out in the waiting room.”

Neil huffed into the pillow. “He’s walking the dog.”

“You have a dog?” Amy asked from the table over. “Since when?”

“Uh, last Thursday.”

“That’s so cool! What’s his name?” Amy asked.

“Doesn’t have one.”

“You’ve had a dog for four days and he doesn’t have a name?” Mark chuckled under his breath. “That’s cold.”

Neil shrugged. An uncomfortable silence fell, and then Amy asked, tentatively, “What kind of dog is it?”

“Who the fuck knows?” Neil snapped, pushing up on his elbows to look at her. “It’s a dog. It barks, it eats, it shits. It has three legs, is that a breed?”

“Neil,” Mark said quietly. Neil turned to meet his eyes, then flopped back down into position. A couple of the other patients were looking at him, and he imagined what they were whispering to each other. _Professional athletes. Always such assholes._ It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it all before, over the years. They knew who he was; everyone did. Hard to blend in when your face was scarred to hell and back.

After a few minutes that felt like years, the pressure disappeared from his leg. “Time for the pool.” Mark was all business now, and Neil pushed off the table and limped after him. He changed into his swim trunks and shirt, then eased himself into the therapy pool, the familiar burn of chlorine in his nostrils.

He hadn’t gotten far when Mark spoke up, his voice low but echoing in the empty room. “What’s the deal with you and the dog?”

Neil debated not answering, but he only made it a few more slow steps before the words found their way out of his mouth. “It’s a fucking joke. He comes home with a dog missing its fucking left leg, okay? He didn’t ask, he just shows up with it, you know?”

“Is that the issue? That he didn’t ask? Or do you not like dogs?”

“Dogs are—dogs are fine.” He thought maybe he wanted one once, a lifetime ago. “But this isn’t a _dog,_ it’s a statement.”

Mark was quiet, other than correcting his movement once, until Neil’s ten minutes were up. He tossed Neil a towel from the stack and hopped down off the table he’d been sitting on. “I guess it’s your business, but I dunno, man. I think you’re putting a lot onto this poor dog’s shoulders. Sometimes a dog is just a dog, y’know?”

* * *

“Oh, what a beautiful dog!”

Andrew blinked through the gray fog at the source of the voice. The woman had barely seemed to notice his presence, kneeling on the dew-stained sidewalk to bury her hands in the dog’s thick ruff. Not-Bella, of course, was turning herself inside out at the sudden magical creation of a new friend, wagging so hard she nearly fell over.

He had taken to walking her this early in the morning to prevent exactly this. The fact that she somehow managed to free herself from her crate to worm her way into his bed at four every morning made getting up at this ungodly hour easier. He still hadn’t figured out how she was doing it; he still hadn’t mentioned it to Neil. There was a time when Neil would’ve laughed himself hoarse over the predicament, and come up with increasingly insane ideas to explain it, and right now he didn’t think he could cope with the blankness he would receive instead.

“What’s her name?” the woman asked, breaking into his thoughts without even sparing him a glance.

“Doesn’t have one.”

That got her attention. One thing Andrew had learned in the past week was that not naming a dog was apparently some sort of moral felony. But after a quick study of his face, she merely nodded. “Just adopted?” Andrew hummed in acknowledgement, glancing in the direction of the park in an unsubtle hint that she neatly ignored. “Naming them is always the hardest part. Especially since the rescues always pick the most common names. Huh, sweetie,” she said, turning back to the dog. At least, Andrew hoped that’s what she was doing. “Who’s a good dog, are you a good dog? Yes, you are, aren’t you.”

Not-Bella answered that question by leaping up and nearly smashing the woman in the face, but she just laughed and fixed her glasses. “It was nice to meet you, Blue Dog! Have a good time at the park!”

She disappeared into the fog and the dog whined after her for a second before realizing there was still a park and Andrew still had a ball. Her eyes trained on it for the rest of the walk. Once through the gate she started spinning so fast it took him a minute to get her leash unhooked, and then he tossed it as hard as he could.

There was a small thrill of satisfaction as he watched the ball sail across the fenced-in space, the dog a hurtling mass of blue-gray and white darting after it, nearly seeming to dissolve into the fog. He wondered what Neil would say if he knew Andrew was using an old exy ball to entertain her. Sacrilege, no doubt, though even Kevin had them scattered around his house with teeth marks all over the surface.

They played until the sun was fully up and Not-Bella was panting around the ball that she insisted on carrying home. On the way back, Andrew considered what the woman had called her. Blue Dog. He couldn’t name her that; Aaron’s kids would be convinced it was after Blue’s Clues and he didn’t want to deal with it. But there were other names for blue…He ran over what he knew in his head. Navy and Steel were out; as were Wedgewood, Royal, and Baby, which, he recalled, had been one of the names she’d already been assigned.

He spent the breaks between his classes googling color names. He had to admit he kind of liked Pigeon, but after lengthy consideration decided it didn’t really suit the dog. Cornflower was just dumb. Sapphire—no, too pretentious for her.

The next class started, but he kept scrolling, scrolling.

* * *

A low whine penetrated through Neil’s cocoon of blankets and cats. He nestled in deeper, determined to ignore it. Andrew’s problem. Even if Andrew was at class.

Another whine, then some scratching, and he decided he’d rather emerge now than have to clean up a puddle later. King squeaked in protest as he slipped out from underneath her, but she curled right back up as soon as he was free. The dog looked at him anxiously over her shoulder, then back through the glass door. He hobbled over and opened it for her, following her onto the deck as she bolted out and down the stairs.

When she was done relieving herself, she bounced around on the grass, dropping into a bow at a passing butterfly, then zooming off in a big loop before spotting a half-deflated soccer ball sitting by the fenceline. Neil hadn’t seen it in a long time; Andrew must have dug it out of the box of Aaron’s kids’ toys. She bopped it with her nose, then bounded after it as it rolled pathetically across the lawn. There was a familiar joy in her movements, and she looked up at him where he stood on the deck, eyes bright over a huge doggy grin. Neil shivered under the force of a nonexistent breeze, and turned back to the house, leaving the dog to her happiness.

He didn’t know how much time passed before Andrew came in, his hair damp. “Where’s the dog?” Andrew asked, absently petting Lady.

“Outside.”

“You left her outside?” Andrew threw the door open and whistled; a second later the dog bolted into the house, pausing to shake as soon as she was on the rug, spraying Neil and the cats with water. “It’s fucking pouring out.”

“It wasn’t when I let her out.”

“And you didn’t notice the storm come in?”

He hadn’t, though Andrew’s words were punctuated by a flash of light out the rain-streaked window, then a few seconds later the low drumroll of thunder. It appeared Andrew’s question was rhetorical though, given that he disappeared up the stairs before Neil could’ve answered, returning a moment later with an armful of towels.

The dog leaned into the vigorous rubbing, arching her back and grinning up at Andrew. He went through three towels before he stopped; the second he finished she took off, zooming around the room, leaping a very disgruntled Sir, pausing only to give Neil a drive-by lick on the hand.

When she had stopped to roll around on the carpet, all 3 legs dangling in the air above her, Andrew sat down on the coffee table. “Do I need to put her in daycare on the days I have class all day?”

“I don’t care what you do with her.” Neil turned back to the TV only to have the screen go suddenly black. He glared at Andrew, at the remote dangling from his fingers. “I told you, she’s your problem. I didn’t ask for some—some pity dog. Or did you think I’d see her running around on three legs and decide, oh, hey, my injury’s not so bad! Let me just pretend like nothing happened, like I didn’t fucking lose…” He bit off the last word, because in reality his everything was sitting there right in front of him. He took a breath, and hated how shaky it was. “This isn’t some inspirational story, it’s my fucking life.”

Andrew reached out as if to touch him, but he stopped halfway there, dropping his hand back into his lap. Suddenly it felt like Neil was back out on that court, staring up at the lights overhead after his body gave out on him. He swallowed hard.

“I didn’t get her to be an inspiration, or whatever bullshit your mind has concocted.” Andrew was looking at the dog, where she was now crouching with her butt in the hair, head cocked sideways, wagging at Sir. He raised a threatening paw, but she didn’t move; two quick smacks to the face only made her blink, and Sir stalked away in irritation. “I was at the pet store, and she was looking at me. But not like dogs do, it was like she saw me. And then when they told me her story, and she’s still...” He gestured at her where she was now rubbing herself into the carpet making stupid grunting sounds. “I guess I have a type.”

He got to his feet, turning towards the kitchen. _I’m not like that anymore,_ Neil wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth what came out was, “You haven’t even named her.”

Andrew paused, staring at Neil like he hadn’t in months, focused and intense. If Neil hadn’t known better, he would’ve said it was wanting. “Azure,” he said finally, as if he had been rolling the name around in his head. “Her name is Azure.”

Andrew disappeared to make dinner, and Neil turned back to the TV. But the dog was watching him, her eyes steady and intense, and all he could think was, _I’m afraid she sees me too._

* * *

The training center was bustling with activity, people with their dogs milling about in the grassy area outside, the door constantly opening and closing, the occasional dog putting on the brakes while their human tried to persuade them to move. Andrew sat in the car and watched, Azure mimicking him from her spot in the back seat.

Neil had been reading when Andrew got home, a book Kevin had sent him that Andrew had never heard of. It might be nothing; but he hadn’t come home to find the TV off in months. Shaking himself mentally, Andrew grabbed the bag of treats and clicker he had been told to bring and got out of the car.

Azure bounded out of the car, then paused, sniffing the air. She glanced up at Andrew and yawned; he had never thought a yawn could look nervous, but there was something in her eyes that reminded him of Neil before a big game. So he did the same thing he had done for years at Neil’s side: squared his shoulders, raised his chin, and walked through the door.

And Azure did as Neil always did, stayed glued to his side until she was in the training space, then lunged forward in a ball of excited energy, nearly taking Andrew’s breath away with the force of it. A Lab puppy, all floppy ears and oversize paws, met her challenge and before Andrew could blink they were a happy wrestling tangle of fur. The human at the other end of the Labrador’s leash sighed, as if this was an overly familiar situation, and bent to detach her whirling dervish of a puppy while Andrew did the same.

The trainer called everyone to attention, shooting a look at Azure and Gunner the puppy—well, more at Andrew and the overwhelmed woman attached to Gunner. Andrew met it with a flat one of his own, even while he hoisted Azure off the ground to facilitate the unknotting of the leashes, and then class began.

An hour and a half later, Andrew dragged himself up the short set of steps into the house. Why the fuck was dog class almost as exhausting as exy training? Not that Azure seemed to feel it; she paused at the top of the stairs to look at him curiously, as if asking why he was so slow.

Neil was back in his blanket cocoon, complete with cat accessories, when they entered. His eyes flicked to Andrew’s while Azure submitted to Lady’s face bops. Andrew waited for him to say something, but after a moment he turned back to the TV.

But in that moment there had been that little piece of Neil looking back at him. A little edge, solidifying out of the mist that Neil had become. It looked a bit like resentment, but Andrew didn’t really care, not when it was something real.

Andrew hadn’t known what hope was, until he met Neil; now he thought maybe he was remembering the taste of it.

* * *

By all appearances, Neil was watching some ancient movie in which an aging Han Solo was being chased by the U.S. Marshalls. In reality, he was watching Andrew’s dog.

Not that she was doing much. Just laying in her bed patiently while Duke Purrbody tried to groom her, only to get frustrated by how her fluffy hair stuck to his tongue. Every now and then she’d give his ears a gentle nuzzle. After a while, he gave up and cuddled into her belly, kneading with his big double paws, and she curled around him protectively and went to sleep.

Neil’s hand buried itself into King’s thick fur and he forced himself to look away. He lost track of time as he watched people moving across the screen, half-listening to the actors’ pleasant voices while not bothering to follow the lines. The movie was familiar enough that there was something comforting about it, and he suspected that was why Andrew put it on every time he got sick.

He woke up to a cold nose pressing against his face. Azure was snuffling at him, wagging her tail gently, head cocked to one side. He felt wrung out, though he hadn’t done anything today, not even his home physical therapy exercises. But when he reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, his cheeks were wet. He tried to remember what he had been dreaming, but all he could dredge up was the feeling of searching.

Azure sniffed his face carefully before stepping back and whining. “Fine,” he said, tossing off the blanket and easing to his feet and taking inventory of the room. King was nowhere to be seen, and he wondered if he had been thrashing in his sleep. Duke had fully taken over the dog bed; Lady was dangling off the cat tree, waving her paws, trying to entice him to come over and get sliced open; Sir was staring mournfully at his designated feeding station, currently empty as per vet’s orders. Sunlight still filtered in through the windows, so he didn’t think he had been out too long.

The warm air beckoned him outside when he opened the slider, and he followed the dog out onto the deck, then down the stairs. It was getting easier to manage over the past few weeks, though he still gripped the railing tightly enough to almost give himself splinters. He sat on the bottom step, letting his leg stretch out in front of him, watching Azure as she sniff-inspected what seemed like every inch of the yard.

The last of the roses were perfuming the yard, and he could hear the bees crowding around the bee balm while the warm breeze played around his face. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the steps and let himself soak in the sunshine.

A suspiciously moist thud startled him out of his reverie. He sat up, blinking at Azure, who was standing a couple feet away with an anticipatory expression. She glanced at the ground in front of him and he noticed an exy ball, heavily chewed, between his feet. “That’s disgusting,” he said, studying it’s slimy surface.

She pranced in place at the sound of his voice. “What—oh, you want me to throw it?” At the word “throw” she crouched down, and he gingerly picked up the ball. “There’s gotta be some kind of law against this,” he said, grimacing at the soggy feel of it, but he cocked his arm back and tossed the ball into the yard.

Azure had anticipated the throw and bolted to the far end; her head popped up at the dull thump of it as it hit the grass behind her, and she whipped around to stare at it bouncing pathetically across the lawn. Trotting back, she picked it up and returned it to Neil, flinging it down on the concrete pad so it bounced and he had to reach to snatch it out of the air. This happened a couple more times; on the fourth return, she placed it very gently in his lap before bounding away. This time, she stopped just a handful of yards away and waited, obviously taking pity on his frailty.

He shrugged and tossed it straight at her; Azure leaped up to catch it, not hindered at all by the absence of that leg, and spun with joy at her success. Bouncing back, she set it in his lap again and barked, then returned to the same spot. Evidently the dog had already learned his limitations. “Do not tell your dad about this,” Neil said; he froze for a second after the words tumbled out of his mouth, then shook his head and threw the ball one more time. “I’ve gotta find my racquet.”

* * *

Andrew caught a flash of something white underneath the deck stairs when he brought Azure out to practice their newest assignments from dog class. Peering through the gaps, he recognized one of the lightweight practice racquets the kids used when they visited. He wondered how long it had been there. Sighing, he bent to fish it out.

As soon as he turned around with it in his hand, Azure zoomed around in a big lap, nose to the ground, searching. When she found what she wanted, she ran back, the exy ball in her mouth. She waited three feet in front of him, wagging, until he lowered the racquet. Carefully dropping the ball in the net, she backed up, bouncing up and down in anticipation.

Feeling like he was in a dream, Andrew threw the ball in a long-familiar motion. He didn’t put his usual force behind it; if he had, it would’ve ended up in the neighbor’s yard; but it arced through the air to ricochet off the fence and into Azure’s waiting mouth. Racing back, she waited for him to offer the net, then took off again.

Andrew glanced up at the silent, still house. Lady was sitting in the window, her one eye gleaming as she watched. There was no sign of Neil, even with the solid thwack of ball against wood; Andrew wondered who he thought he was fooling. He turned away so nobody but the dog would see his smile.

* * *

There was something tugging at Neil’s bones. Something long-buried under the weight of pain and desolation. He didn’t even know what stupidity was playing across the TV screen; he kept picking up the book Aaron had sent him the other day, but it couldn’t hold his attention. The fourth time he squirmed in his blanket, King gave him up as a bad job and hopped off the couch, sauntering over to join Sir on the cat tower. Duke perked his head up from the dog bed; Neil patted the vacated spot on his belly but Duke just cleaned a paw and went back to sleep.

Neil glanced over at the loveseat, where Andrew sat reading something for school, Azure upside down with her head in his lap, his free hand mindlessly scratching her chest. Had Andrew still been at school, Azure would have been all over Neil, begging for their secret game of exy-fetch as she now did every afternoon. But with Andrew home for the weekend, Neil and Azure were back to pretending each other didn’t exist.

“Staring,” Andrew said, not looking up from his book. A nearly two-decades old joke that had never gotten old, but one Neil hadn’t heard in months now. It pulled at the corners of his lips, and words leaked out.

“I miss that.”

Andrew let the book go slack in his hand, his eyes meeting Neil’s. Neil wanted to look away from the questioning intensity in them, but he gestured with his chin at Azure where she lay draped over Andrew in a position very familiar to Neil. “That. I get it, I just...miss it.”

“What do you get?”

Neil took a deep breath that sliced him on the way out. “Why you don’t want to anymore. With me, I mean.”

Andrew’s movements were slow, deliberate, as he closed the book and set it down and leaned back into the couch. Azure popped upright, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth as she looked between them. “Why I don’t want to.” Neil nodded; he didn’t know why his mouth had gone dry, why he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Andrew’s next words. “What I want has nothing to do with this.”

“What—you haven’t touched me in months, Andrew.” He shook his head at himself as his voice cracked, digging his fingernails into his palms.

“Five months and seventeen days,” Andrew replied, and there was roughness in his voice as well. “I haven’t touched you since you told me not to.”

Neil gaped at him. He remembered; oh, he remembered. It was ten days after his surgery, and he was spending his life on crutches, his foot fixed into position under layers of batting and fiberglass. Every day, they had bagged his cast and Andrew had lifted him into the shower, setting him on the stupid plastic stool like a doll. Every day, Andrew had climbed in with him and helped him in what was a mockery of that vital moment that had changed everything so many years ago. But Andrew hadn’t kissed him; there had been none of that desperate need to prove that they were alive, and okay, and together. It had been empty. Rote. And Neil hadn’t been able to take it.

Of course, Andrew had listened. He had stepped out of the shower and let Neil wash himself, had been there, extending an arm for Neil to lean on to get out. Every day, he had been there, silent backup until the cast was off and Neil could do it himself. But he hadn’t put a hand on him since.

The worst part was, Neil hadn’t even noticed. Not at first. There had just been a guilty sort of relief that nothing was being asked of him. He swallowed now, his throat scraped raw by emotions he couldn’t name. “I didn’t think you’d hold onto it, after all this time. I thought we were past that.”

He recognized the fire that flared to life in Andrew’s eyes at that. “It’s a yes until it’s a no, Neil. And a no until it’s a yes.”

“What if I said yes now?”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

Azure jumped off the couch as Andrew shifted, got to his feet, picked his book up. His eyes never left Neil’s as he came over to him; Neil sat up to make room, and Andrew scooted in behind him, settling against the arm of the couch. It was a position they had spent many nights in over the years, and he couldn’t help his sigh as he leaned back into Andrew’s warm body. A strong arm slipped around him, squeezing gently, and he imagined the faint brush of lips against his hair.

Suddenly he felt like weeping.

He closed his eyes, squeezing them tight against the urge, and took a deep shuddering breath. This time he definitely wasn’t imagining it; Andrew was pressing soft kisses along his hair, then his temples, before resting his cheek on the top of Neil’s head. Neil could hear the rustle of pages as Andrew opened his book, and he wondered how he had ever let this start to slip away.

* * *

Andrew locked Azure’s crate and double-checked it. Not that it did any good. Every night he did this, and every night she was in his room in the morning. He kept meaning to set up a camera or something, just to see how she managed it. The trainer had just laughed when he’d mentioned it, and suggested a snap to hold it closed, but he hadn’t bothered.

Exhaustion pulled at him. He hadn’t given a shit about his grades the first time around in college, which meant he had done well in exams and terribly on papers, when he chose to turn them in at all. Turned out actually putting effort into writing was a pain in the ass.

Neil’s door was closed but the light was still on when he passed on the way to the master bedroom. Andrew thought about knocking, but he didn’t want to push his luck. The past couple of weeks had been a slow resettling into each other, the ebb and flow a tide reclaiming an empty shore. One day Neil would make breakfast and sink into Andrew’s side while he told stories from school after dinner; the next, he wouldn’t say a word, his eyes glassy as he stared at whatever nonsense was on TV.

This had been a good day. Andrew came home to a tired Azure, which meant Neil had played exy-fetch with her. He still never said a word about it, just like he pretended he never petted her or gave her treats despite the rapidly dwindling supply; Andrew wondered how long it would take before he confessed to liking her.

He suppressed a sigh as he flicked on the light. Sir blinked blearily at him from his pillow; ten years the damn cat had been shedding where he slept. Never Neil. Even with that side of the bed vacant for six months, it was Andrew’s that was coated in gray and white fur.

A few minutes later Andrew was in bed, Sir somehow expanding in size to occupy approximately eighty percent of his space. Finding his place in The Silmarillion, he settled in to read himself into a stupor. It was the one foolproof way to get himself to fall asleep recently. A dozen pages of incomprehensible Elfin religion and he was done for.

Four pages in, and he was just beginning to droop when there was a knock so quiet he thought he might have imagined it except he could see a shadow through the cat-sized opening. Tossing back the covers, he made it to the door just in time to catch Neil turning away. They stared at each other for a few seconds or years, Neil’s face getting pinker with each moment. “Hi,” he finally said, then grimaced at himself. Andrew just opened the door wider and returned to bed.

“You coming?” he asked, when he was settled under the covers but Neil was still hovering in the doorway.

“You’re okay with it?” Andrew just gave him a level look. “Me sharing your bed?”

“For fuck’s sake, Neil, it’s your bed. You picked it out.”

There wasn’t much of an argument Neil could give to that. He shuffled in, wild-shy; with his hair overgrown and dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, hope a barely-there simmer in his eyes, he looked impossibly younger. Andrew was forcibly reminded of the night he had first handed Neil a key to the house in Columbia. Though that night, he never would’ve been able to even imagine the comfort of Neil’s weight next to him, the way his warmth stole through Andrew’s bloodstream like whiskey.

Neil lay next to him, still rigid, staring at the ceiling through another two pages of the book. Finally Andrew closed it, set it on his nightstand, perched his glasses precariously on top while Sir mrrped sleepily at him. The click of the lamp plunged the room into darkness, leaving behind just the fading memory of light on Andrew’s retinas. Neil’s sigh echoed the fade.

Andrew reached over and paused with his hand next to Neil’s neck, one finger brushing lightly against the soft skin there; a second later, a cautious head landed on his shoulder, and an arm draped itself across his chest. He tightened his arm around Neil and closed his eyes, relishing the warmth, the closeness, the quiet sound of steady breathing. It felt strange and unfamiliar; it felt like coming home after a long trip to find everything exactly where it had been when he left.

He was almost asleep when Neil murmured into the dark, “I thought you were having an affair.”

Blinking himself back into full consciousness, Andrew shifted to try to look at him, but his head was stubbornly curled into Andrew’s chest. “I wasn’t aware your brain cells were stored in your Achilles.”

There was a pause, then Neil huffed and Andrew could feel the smile pressed against his ribs; the smile turned into a laugh, a true laugh, music he hadn’t heard in too long. He let himself grin into Neil’s riot of hair, then against the lips that turned up to meet his. They kissed until Andrew lost track of time. It was slow, lazy, habitual; it was glorious.

“I did, though,” Neil said when they finally broke apart.

“Why would you think I would break that particular promise?” Andrew asked, sliding his hand down to tap Neil’s wedding ring.

Neil pressed a kiss to Andrew’s shoulder. “I guess I didn’t really think about it like that.” He was silent for a moment, but there was something different—softer—in the quiet. “Do you miss it?”

Andrew hummed, thinking of Neil, arching underneath him. Of being that close, closer than he had ever let himself be with someone else, and feeling only a joy that had never become routine. Of coaxing pleasure out of Neil until he was trembling from it, until he couldn’t do anything but pull Andrew into his chest and murmur romantic nonsense liberally sprinkled with curses. Of falling asleep, tangled into each other until he couldn’t tell where he ended and Neil began. “Yes. I miss it.”

“But you really never—” Neil trailed off, but Andrew knew what he was thinking; he wanted to shake him.

“I miss it with you. It wouldn’t be the same, with anyone else.”

Neil managed to worm his way even closer at that, and Andrew let himself relax into the pillow, breathing in his familiar scent. He thought maybe Neil was drifting off, but before he could follow suit Neil spoke again. “I hate this.” His voice was thick, and his whole body shuddered as he drew in a breath. “I hate being so useless.”

And there it was. Five words, that had been hovering in between them for six months. Five words, that Neil had been drowning in, was drowning in still. “You’re not useless.”

It sounded too automatic, and he cupped Neil’s jaw, tugging his face up. His thumb encountered moisture as it stroked across Neil’s cheek and he followed the path with his lips. The taste of salt was rich on his tongue when he said, “I don’t care what that exy-junkie head of you is telling you, you have never, for one second, been useless.”

“Ichirou disagrees.”

“Are you seriously beating yourself up because a literal mob boss has decided you’ve given him a big enough pound of flesh?”

Neil gave a small, wet laugh. “It sounds stupid when you put it that way.”

“Because it is.” He felt Neil stiffen and he tightened his arm; he wasn’t going to let him squirm away from this. “You speak half a dozen languages, you have a degree in applied mathematics, you make above-average chocolate chip pancakes, and you’re excellent cat furniture.” Neil pinched his side and he returned the favor, following it up with a kiss to the temple.

“I don’t know how to be anything else,” Neil said softly. “This is all I’ve ever done.”

“It was all I’d ever done until last year.” Somehow Neil managed to make a hum sound skeptical. “Go to sleep. You don’t have to figure it out now.”

The clock was creeping past one a.m. Andrew fought to keep his eyes open, but he was losing the battle, each blink getting longer—

A startled yelp and a jangling thud shocked him back into wakefulness. He bumped Sir on his lunge to turn on the light, adding a disgruntled squeak to the mix. The light revealed a rumpled Neil staring at Azure, who was waving her tail apologetically as she sniffed his face. She must’ve landed on Neil in the dark, Andrew realized.

“What the fuck?” Neil rasped. Azure answered by jumping up, carefully avoiding him as she curled up at the foot of the bed. “I thought you crated her at night.”

“I do,” Andrew said, biting back a laugh. “She lets herself out.”

“Seriously? How?”

Andrew shrugged as he reached up to shut off the light. He rolled onto his side, fitting himself carefully into the zigzag curve of Neil’s body. The last thing he remembered was slipping his fingers between Neil’s, and the tiny little contented breath Neil gave in response before sleep pulled them under again.

* * *

“Lock picks, stored in her fluff,” Neil announced over breakfast a few days later.

Andrew blinked at him in a subtle show of surprise, then shook his head as he poured the orange juice. “Not that kind of lock, and no opposable thumbs.”

“She has an opposable tongue, though.”

“Prehensile,” Andrew corrected. Neil bit back his smile at the automatic response. Azure was flopped on the floor, looking hopefully at him while he dumped eggs out onto their plates. Andrew had already fed her, but she had polished her bowl in approximately two point four seconds and was now trying to obtain eggs via telekinesis.

The numbness that had resettled on him after his confession to Andrew had dissipated during the night. It was a different sort of numbness than what he’d been buried under for the past six months; more like exhaustion after a long day than collapsing under the weight of a Sisyphean rock. Andrew hadn’t let him slip away into it. He hadn’t forced him to talk, but somehow watching endless stupid movies was different when Andrew was at his back.

Now, he felt like he was waking up.

Andrew finished his new routine and headed off to class; Neil settled into his divot on the couch. He grabbed the remote, but let it drop again, the screen still blank.

His laptop had to be somewhere. When he couldn’t find it in the living room, he wandered into Andrew’s office. It looked different, and he realized he hadn’t been in here since the new semester had started. Books were scattered over the usually neat space, some Neil recognized, some he didn’t. Legal journals too, and notepads with Andrew’s pristine handwriting.

It was a punch in the gut, how little he had noticed. How little he had recognized the way Andrew was throwing himself into his classes. He felt like he was intruding, but he couldn’t help but scan the notes for a paper Andrew must be writing. It was concise; elegant, even. He had always known that Andrew had a unique way of looking at the world, of cutting through the bullshit to the heart of it, but it was the first time he had seen it laid out in literal black and white.

His laptop was plugged in, and he freed it and carried it into the living room. Azure sniffed it with rapidly waning interest before letting herself get dragged into a game of smack the snout with Lady. Neil had never understood why she liked that game, but it happened the same way every time: with each smack, she would get more and more excited until she ended up with a case of the zooms all through the house.

He scrolled mindlessly through the news; he didn’t even know what he was looking for. At some point he ended up on the website for the university Andrew was attending, looking through the available math courses. After a while he shut the laptop and set it next to him on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

A paw on his knee almost made him jump. Azure cocked her head, and he couldn’t help but reach forward and ruffle her lopsided ears. “You wanna go play?”

She sprang backward at the magic word and he followed her to the door. It was easier now, going down the stairs, and he fished the exy stick out from under the deck. Azure was waiting with the ball and dropped it into the net when he held it out then bolted for the middle of the yard. As soon as he started to take his swing, she changed direction to follow the arc, catching the ball neatly on its ricochet off the fence.

He laughed at the sheer joy of her, at the soothing warmth of the fall sun filtering through the fading leaves, at the calls of the birds flying overhead, getting ready to head south for winter. He laughed at the breeze blowing his hair off his neck, at Azure’s muffled bark as she waited for him to extend the racquet back at her, at Duke’s quiet mews he could hear through the cracked-open window.

He laughed, more ruefully, at himself; at what he might have lost, at what he still had but hadn’t let himself see.

On the dozenth rebound, Azure barked and ran right past him. Neil turned to see Andrew in the doorway, squinting into the sunshine that still set him aglow even all these years later. His cheeks grew warm at the lack of surprise on Andrew’s face, and he wondered how long he’d known. “You’re back early.”

“My afternoon class was canceled, prof has appendicitis.”

Andrew took the ball Azure offered him and flung it off the deck, following the dog down the steps until he stood next to Neil. “How unfortunate,” Neil said, leaning in for a kiss. It was brief, and chaste, and he thought he would die a thousand deaths just for this. “I think I figured out how she’s getting out of her crate.” Andrew arched an eyebrow. “She’s got a deal going with the cats. They let her out, she pays them in cat treats.”

“Makes more sense than the lock picks.” He hesitated, then said, “I was going to take her for a walk in the park.” The invitation was clear in the quirk of his mouth, and Neil looked down at his traitorous foot.

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.

“It’s only half a mile, you’ve been walking a lot more than that at PT.”

Neil recalled the path to the park—sidewalk, well-maintained, only a couple of curbs…”What if I can’t?”

“We’ll take breaks, if you need to.”

A few minutes later, he followed Andrew out the front door. Azure spun in excitement as they turned towards the park, then took the leash in her mouth to show them the way. The air seemed fresher, somehow, though logically he knew it must be the same. Part of him wanted to tell Andrew about the master’s program he’d been looking at, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to think about that right now. Not when Azure had that look of joy on her face, and Andrew was warm beside him, and he had time.

He had time.

Andrew linked his fingers with Neil’s, and he let himself lean into Andrew’s solid bulk as they walked, step by slow, careful step, towards a sky stained pink by the setting sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! Please let me know what you think, I hope you enjoyed Azure and her ways of inserting herself into their lives! (She's based mostly on my old dog Rosie, with a few traits from the fuzzball sheltie of my username, Fizzy.) I absolutely live for comments, it's always amazing to get your thoughts, even if I get anxious about replying know that I reread them every time I'm having a rough day <3
> 
> HMU [ on Tumblr](https://fuzzballsheltiepants.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi or yell at me for writing sad things


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